Chapter Fifteen: A Modest Display of Skill

Thinking of the art of seduction, Liu Jingye couldn't help but remember Yuan Xiaoying. The same principles applied to men: if he's inexperienced, you should be bold and direct; if he's seen it all, care for him in small, domestic ways. Clearly, Yuan Xiaoying was far more adept at this than he was.

Suddenly, with a thunderous clang, the iron door outside was shoved open. Liu Jingye immediately stood up and peered through the registration window. It seemed some customers had arrived, and they didn't look friendly.

"Are you here for the night, or just by the hour?" Liu Jingye stepped out to greet them proactively.

A group of eight burly men filed in, each one broad-shouldered and muscular. The heavy scent of alcohol filled the air, their faces flushed. The leader glanced at him and replied, "Hourly rooms. We just need a place to crash and sober up."

"Eight of you? Four rooms, fifty yuan for three hours," Liu Jingye offered enthusiastically.

"No way," the man shot back. "Eight people, eight rooms. We've all had quite a bit to drink—if we bunk together, who knows what might happen after a few drinks?" His words drew a burst of raucous laughter from the group.

In truth, Liu Jingye could tell that despite their red faces, none of them were truly drunk. Their eyes were clear, not the least bit dazed. Moreover, eight people taking eight rooms would fill his entire inn—clearly, they had come with a purpose.

Liu Jingye had previously fought off the man in black, breaking his leg and ribs, which had served as a deterrent. Now, with that plan foiled, they had elevated their tactics, coming openly as guests to search for what they wanted.

He smiled faintly, welcoming them warmly, guiding them through registration, up the stairs, and to their rooms.

"Would one of you please wait a moment? A lady just checked out this morning, and I need to tidy the room," Liu Jingye said, gesturing to Yuan Xiaoying’s former room.

One of the men immediately replied, "No need... I like a room with a woman's scent—authentic!"

This absurd excuse only confirmed Liu Jingye’s suspicions. Once he had settled the group, he turned and headed downstairs, but did not go far. He stood quietly on the stairs, eavesdropping.

Soon, voices drifted down: "Boss, they told us to come here and look for some broken earring. Is it diamonds? Is it really that valuable?"

"Do as you're told and stop asking questions," came a cold reply. "Find the earring, then teach that guy a lesson, and we're out."

Liu Jingye chuckled to himself. Planning to teach "that guy" a lesson? Who else but me? The Huang Dynasty really did rise from the streets—always concerned about pride.

As he descended the stairs, stretching his chest, he sneered, "Looks like they’ve delivered themselves here for me to warm up a bit."

After reaching the first floor, he carefully replaced the altered poison-manufacture memory card back inside the pearl earring and placed it conspicuously on the second floor.

Then, he calmly lit a cigarette and waited for them to find it and come for him.

Sure enough, a cheer soon erupted from upstairs, and a group of men came down in high spirits. Four of them left first, undoubtedly to report their success with the earring, while the remaining four stayed behind to "teach Liu Jingye a lesson," clearly thinking their numbers were sufficient.

"Boss, time to settle the bill." Even thugs have their own code—a direct attack would be considered picking a fight, an offense under the law, but provoking a quarrel over payment would be treated differently, as a mutual altercation, with much lighter consequences.

Liu Jingye smiled at them. "Eight rooms, fifty each—four hundred in total."

"Four hundred, just for a short while?" one of the men retorted, reeking of alcohol and glaring at him.

Liu Jingye’s smile grew even brighter. "Step inside for even a minute, and it’s four hundred."

"That’s daylight robbery! Is this a scam?" the man growled.

"Next time, you can find a cheaper place," Liu Jingye replied.

"Who are you calling cheap? Looking for a beating?" The man’s eyes lit up—finally, he had his excuse.

He lunged at Liu Jingye, grabbing him by the collar—a clumsy move, betraying a lack of fighting skill.

Liu Jingye was ready. Without hesitation, he placed his left hand over the man’s grip, leaned back slightly, and as the man’s arm straightened, Liu Jingye drove his right hand upward, striking the elbow. With a sickening crack, the man's arm snapped in two.

He flung the man's hand away, then kicked him hard in the shin, sending him sprawling to the ground with a shriek of pain.

The other three hesitated only a moment before shouting and rushing forward. Liu Jingye didn’t retreat; he ducked under one man’s punch, countered with a blow to the armpit, and dislocated the man’s shoulder.

Rolling forward to evade the other two, Liu Jingye sprang up behind another, grabbed his hair, yanked his head back, and chopped down on his neck—nearly crushing his larynx.

The last man lunged with a kick, but Liu Jingye blocked it with his knee. As the man stumbled, Liu Jingye surged forward and delivered four resounding slaps, sending a bloodied molar flying and leaving his cheeks instantly swollen.

In a single exchange, all four lay groaning on the floor, writhing in pain—especially the one struck in the neck, who curled up, dry-heaving, nearly suffocating.

Liu Jingye leisurely lit another cigarette, as relaxed as if he’d just finished his morning exercises. Coldly, he announced, "Perhaps I wasn’t clear with the man in black last time, so I’ll say it again—this time, for the last time: no one is permitted to cause trouble in my inn. Unless, of course, he has a death wish."

The four thugs cowered, staring at him as if he were a demon. He barked, "Get out."

They scrambled to their feet, ignoring their injuries, desperate to flee when Liu Jingye called out, "Wait—pay the bill first..."